


Flustered Questions

by Scummy



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Grinding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:29:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scummy/pseuds/Scummy
Summary: “We can watch Lady of Bracelets… or something long, I don't know,” He mumbles, already scooting closer to Seven. “I just don't want to think.”This was probably a moment where Seven should try to say something. Yoosung wasn't looking at him, just the blanket spread over him while he picked at the seams. While he wanted to know what was happening, based on previous times Yoosung had stormed into his bunker before, and the ‘elusive’ status updates on the messenger, Yoosung wasn't ready to talk until he made it clear he was. There was a battle going on in his head that he needed to get through himself, and Seven couldn't help with that just yet.------Yoosung/Seven





	Flustered Questions

Watery eyes and a pout is the first thing to greet him as he opens the bunker door. Yoosung hastily wipes his eyes, trying to hide his sniffle as he walks in.

“T-Thanks for letting me come over, Seven.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Seven watches as Yoosung beelines towards his couch, making a face as he brushes off crumbs and a couple of empty soda cans. “So… what's the game plan? Movie? WeTube marathon? Maybe some games?”

Yoosung plops down on the cushion, crossing his arms around his stomach. “Watching stuff. Do you have a clean blanket?”

“Yeah, let me go get it.”

Seven ruffles Yoosung's hair as he walks by, receiving silence instead of the usual whine. Today must be a bad one for him, huh? He grabs the blanket from his room first, shaking it out and giving it a sniff. Clean enough…? 

Next he heads into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of chips and a few cans of soda. If this was anything like past visits, Yoosung was going to end up spending the night after a few hours of hanging out. Usually when they watched stuff this late, it wasn't a surprise when Seven turned to see his best friend drooling on the arm of the couch.

With all the materials gathered, Seven heads back to the living room, not missing how Yoosung doesn't look in his direction until after he hears another small sniffle. Whatever was going on today had really hit Yoosung hard. Seven hadn't seen him like this in a while.

“Alright!” He chirps, setting the food on the coffee table. “Got snacks, got soda, and now all we're missing is what to watch.”

Yoosung doesn't talk until Seven tosses the blanket over him and plops down beside him.

“We can watch Lady of Bracelets… or something long, I don't know,” He mumbles, already scooting closer to Seven. “I just don't want to think.”

This was probably a moment where Seven should try to say something. Yoosung wasn't looking at him, just the blanket spread over him while he picked at the seams. While he wanted to know what was happening, based on previous times Yoosung had stormed into his bunker before, and the ‘elusive’ status updates on the messenger, Yoosung wasn't ready to talk until he made it clear he was. There was a battle going on in his head that he needed to get through himself, and Seven couldn't help with that just yet.

“Alright, you got it! One super long marathon coming up!”

* * *

 

Yoosung lasts an hour through the movie before he's cradled in Seven's lap, sniffling at the third and drawn out death scene on the screen even if he’s seen this a hundred times.

It started off agonizingly slow. Yoosung kept scooting closer and closer to Seven while trying to pretend he wasn't. Then he gently rested his head against Seven's shoulder, even feigning a yawn to try to make it seem like he wasn't doing any of this on purpose. An extra touch of wordlessly sharing the blanket (really just tugging it over Seven's lap) before carefully guiding Seven's hand over his back and resting on his hip. Honestly, by the time he finally threw his legs over Seven's lap, Seven was ready to pull him into his arms anyway. 

For some reason, Yoosung always had to try to make it seem like the cuddles just happened without them realizing it, rather than the obviousness that they both knew exactly what Yoosung had wanted when he first stepped through that door. As soon as Seven tightened his grip around Yoosung and rested his chin on his head, he waited for that familiar threat Yoosung used against him.

“ _ If you tell anyone in the RFA about this, I'm never talking to you again _ .”

Yoosung always said it with a grumpy huff, as if he was mad about the cuddles  _ he _ initiated. As much of a bluff that it was, Seven never tested it, and instead crossed his heart or sang out a promise.

This time… Yoosung kept quiet as he nuzzled into him. He expected maybe a complaint about how he didn't exactly smell amazing today, or how he was holding him 'too tight’ if his hand went too close to Yoosung's ass. Instead, he received nothing but Yoosung's breathing steadying. 

He didn't question it. After all, the movie was starting to get to the best part, and Seven didn't want to ruin it for the exhausted Yoosung in his lap.

Sometime, however, during that amazing scene, he felt Yoosung's head drop sharply. It only lasted a moment before Yoosung snapped his head up again, and Seven just barely dodged his chin getting smacked.

“Someone is sleepy, huh?”

“No,” Yoosung's voice comes out groggy, making Seven laugh while giving him a squeeze.

“Somebody’s taking the train to sleepytime junction-”

“Sevennn,” Yoosung whines, and Seven can practically hear his pout. “Don't sing that song, I'm going to get it stuck in my head for a week again.”

“Somebody is so tired he can hardly func-”

“ _ Seven _ .”

He chuckles, picking up the remote and turning the tv off. “Alright, no more singing, but we're definitely going to bed.”

Yoosung doesn't respond but grips Seven's shirt, resting his head more noticeably against his shoulder. Seven knows this game too, and stops Yoosung from beating around the bush by bundling the cover in Yoosung's lap before hooking his arms around him and picking him up bridal style.

“Looks like tonight you're going to have to tough it out with me. I don't have any more clean blankets.”

Yoosung opens his mouth to, assumedly, gripe, but shuts it firmly and keeps his grip on Seven’s shirt. With no complaints to jokenly argue against, Seven carries Yoosung to his bedroom. He’s thankful when Yoosung opens the door for him, but  once they step in Yoosung wiggles to be put down, and Seven decides to oblige. 

He watches him pull his hoodie off, cradling it in an arm as he rubs at his eyes for the fifthtenth time tonight. At this point, Yoosung could whine that he’s rubbed the skin raw and Seven would believe him. In fact, once Yoosung brings up his hand to repeat the action, he has to stop himself from prying his hand away.

“Do you have any of my clothes still? Like… clean?”

Absolutely not. Seven could hardly wash his clothes on a regular basis, so of course the clothes his friend left over weren't clean. That, and on a few nights where he felt too much like himself, where the fabric of his clothes rubbing against his skin felt like a small, constant burn was etching into him, Yoosung's shirt helped him sort out his thoughts. Whether he was hugging it or wearing it, the familiar scent of his game-obsessed friend helped calm him down.

Yoosung, however, wasn't in a state to hear that. Not without thinking Seven was being weird, even if that thought was completely true.

“Mmm, nope. Gonna have to wear some of mine.”

For once, Yoosung didn't seem annoyed by that. Seven picked him out some loose bottoms and t-shirt, and spreads out the cover while Yoosung goes into the bathroom to change.

Undoubtedly, Yoosung was going to start his shy cuddling process again. It happened the first night they had snuggled up together, and it's happened every night Yoosung comes over since. The only thing that truly bothered Seven about it was how it purely seemed to be whenever Yoosung was upset now. The first time it had been after Yoosung lamented about not being able to enjoy the simple things in a relationship, since he wasn't in one. Seven had jokingly promised to cuddle whenever Yoosung had wanted, or needed, and despite the red faced rejection he got, later than night Yoosung had pretended to be asleep as he inched his arm around Seven.

Ever since then, though, Yoosung had been trying to come over every time he was upset. Seven didn't mind giving him temporary comforts, but he didn't enjoy how frequent the visits had been getting, along with the uncertainty of what was wrong with him.

* * *

 

Seven's already in the bed when Yoosung comes out of the bathroom, yawning and settling under the covers after a small stretch. It's all too cute, and Yoosung knows he's cute too, so was he doing this on purpose? It's possible.

“It's been really col-” Before Yoosung can finish, Seven throws an arm around him, tugging him to his chest.

“The great Seven-Oh-Seven is here to warm you up.”

A small scoff leaves Yoosung, but he gently slips his arm around Seven too. It doesn't take long for his hold to become defined, and for him to press against Seven more firmly.

That's it. Surely. Yoosung usually just buried his face in Seven's chest, and after a few extra sniffles, fell asleep. Maybe he might get a little handsy while dreaming, because Seven has definitely woken up more than once with Yoosung's leg hooked around his, but nothing more than that.

But… the sniffles aren't stopping this time, and soon they're followed by hiccups, and now he can't just let this slide by again.

“You know, you never told me what was wrong.” Seven cards his fingers through the back of Yoosung's hair, feeling him try to snuggle into him more.

“N-Nothing.”

“Certainly something. Did you lose a big raid in LOLOL, and your teammates got mad? Oh- Did you miss a call from your mom-”

“It's nothing!” 

“I can keep guessing until you tell me,” He warns, voice soft. “You ruined your lucky boxers, or you made a hole in those cute puppy socks-”

“You're just going to make fun of me.” Yoosung blurts, pulling away from Seven to breathe. His cheeks are shining, and Seven notices how damp his shirt is. Oh…

“Hey, no, I won't.”

“Yes, you will! O-or you'll tell me that I'm just getting worked up, or that I n-need to trust people more!”

Ah… Rika again. He didn't want to assume it was about that ordeal, but that being the case raises more questions. Just how often did Yoosung cry about this?

“Okay, listen,” Seven squeezes Yoosung briefly, speaking calmly. “I'm not good at advice, but I’ll listen to you if you need it.”

“I-I don't want advice. Not right now, I just…” Yoosung wipes his eyes, voice going quiet. “I just want you to h-hold me.”

Seven smiles, pulling Yoosung to his chest and resting his chin on top of his head. “That, I can do.”

No complaints. As soon as Yoosung is pressed against Seven again, he wraps his arms around him tightly. Seven can feel Yoosung tremble, feel his breathing hitch as he tries his damnest not to cry so hard. If this is how he was when they were together, what was he like home alone? Did he hug that ridiculous green plush he had, or did he just cry into his hands and constantly beat himself up over hypotheticals? Just… how often did Yoosung tear himself up over her?

Rika’s death had an impact on everyone in the RFA. He can remember Yoosung’s reaction the most, and the very poor ways he handled his grief. There were bits and pieces of evidence that he was still resorting to drinking occasionally to help battle the thoughts he must have been having, and Seven didn’t like imagining Yoosung alone with empty bottles scattered about. Thankfully, it had to be once in a blue moon since he didn’t have much of an income. Still… 

Seven focuses on the Yoosung in his arms instead of the one in his memories, starting to rub his shaking back. While he had zoned out, Yoosung had kept crying, and while getting his emotions out was good, Seven still felt empathetic. When he came into the bunker he was crying, and there was only a few small break between his tears, there was no telling how hard his head must have been pounding.

Yoosung whimpers, nuzzling into Seven again and fisting his shirt. In turn, Seven noses Yoosung’s hair, hoping the motion is comforting as he restrains from planting a kiss onto the top of his head. A kiss… Now he’s thinking on Yoosung’s reaction to that, and other guilty fantasies he’s had before. Small kisses between the two of them being shared during a romantic scene in a movie, lingering kisses before Seven goes on a mission- Too many to count, and way too many to all imagine at once. There’s a chance that the need to see Yoosung smile again is overwriting his common sense, but before he knows it he’s brushing Yoosung’s bangs back and planning his strategy. 

Slowly, Seven presses his lips against his forehead. It's gentle enough to where if he wanted, he could pass the action off as Yoosung imagining things. The only reaction he seems to get, however, is Yoosung stirring and tightening his hold on him. How far could he go?

Seven tests kissing Yoosung's temple, and when there's still no complaints from him, Seven kisses his cheek. That gets a small hum from Yoosung, and before he deciphers if it was disapproving or not, he tips Yoosung's head up and plants a kiss on his mouth.

His lips are soft. Seven can't help himself as he swipes his tongue across them at the end of the kiss, tasting salt from Yoosung's tears, along with a hint of something he couldn't place. Was it just how Yoosung naturally tasted?

God, he wants more. He moves to cup Yoosung's cheek, but before he can Yoosung pulls away, voice shaking.

“I- I don't want to be pranked right now, Seven! I told you-”

“It's not a prank,” He attempts to explain, licking his own lips to try and seek any lasting taste from the kiss. “I'm not trying to make you embarrassed.”

Yoosung hiccups, his glare turning just slightly softer. “But- You never- I-”

Seven pushes himself closer again, lips so tantalizingly close to Yoosung's. He can feel his breath against his lips as Yoosung breathes nervously.

“Please?”

Yoosung hesitates, voice dying as he's contemplating. Seven can see his eyes dart from his lips and back up to his glasses. His cheeks are still stained pink, and Seven wonders if Yoosung is ever capable of not blushing in a situation like this.

“... If this is a prank, I'm never talking to you again,” He breathes just before he crashes their lips together again. He's clumsy, but Seven tries to use any openings he can to guide him into kissing better. 

While Seven was seeking to move slowly and to provide more emotional comfort for him, Yoosung seemed to have a very different set of plans as his body pressed against Seven harder than before, his hands fisting Seven's tank top. 

Seven's hand trails up Yoosung's forearm, successful prying his grip away and pulling away from the kiss. Yoosung pants with him, subdued confusion coming along his reddened face.

“O-Okay…,” Seven rubs the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the spit that had gathered. “I wasn't expecting that.”

“You're the one who kissed me first!” Yoosung frowns, and even though Seven knows that the annoyance radiating from Yoosung is true, he can't help but find his pout adorable in this situation.

“Yeah, but not like that.” Despite his smirk, Seven shifts his hips away from Yoosung. That kiss, as amateur as it was, had began to stir a reaction in him thanks to Yoosung using his whole body with the action. 

Yoosung looks down, away from Seven's smile. 

“I've never kissed anyone, don't tease me about it, okay?”

“God, Yoosung,” Seven cards his fingers through those bleached locks, coaxing Yoosung to meet his soft gaze. “Your kisses are fine, they were just intense.”

The blush on Yoosung's cheeks doesn't try to fade as he still tries to glance away, embarrassed.

“It felt good…” He mumbles, flustered that he enjoyed it.

“Yeah, they're supposed to,” Seven chuckles, tipping Yoosung's head up to place another kiss. “Now follow my lead.”

Yoosung lets him take control of their pace this time. Their first few kisses are just pecks, small quick kisses to help Yoosung feel less pressured, but then they start lasting longer, with Seven unable to keep himself from lingering. He takes his time deepening them. Carefully threading his fingers in Yoosung's hair as he takes his lip between his, sucking lightly before letting go and starting yet another. Soon, there's soft sounds of their lips meeting more and more as Yoosung gets brave again, pulling himself close against Seven and letting out little gasps when he teases tongue.

He's going a little too fast, especially with heat traveling low into his torso and building up, but Yoosung isn't helping either. Before he realizes it, Yoosung has a hand in his hair and is attempting to lead the kisses, even trying to slip his tongue against Seven's and into his mouth. He can't bring himself to pull away, and indulges Yoosung by allowing his tongue pass his lips and sucks on it.

The loud moan that comes from Yoosung wakes him up from his daze, and suddenly he's pulling Yoosung away again, panting.

“W-what was wrong that time?”

“I- Oh, god.” Seven closes his eyes, breathing in deeply. “We can't keep on like that, you're going to end up doing something you regret.”

“Don't make me regret it then,” Yoosung huffs, planting a clumsy kiss to Seven's cheek. God, his hips just keep getting closer to his. If Yoosung hasn't noticed his how hard he was yet, then he's counting that as his miracle for the year. 

“No, Yoosung, it's going to end up being more than just kissing.”

That stops him, if only for a moment. Seven can see Yoosung processing that, biting his cheek but never loosening his hold on Seven. 

“So?”

Wow. All that thinking for a short reply. Seven keeps his hands on Yoosung’s shoulders, firmly keeping him from stealing more kisses.

“ _ So _ , I don’t want you to get hurt.” Yoosung has been a short constant in his life that he wasn’t ready to lose yet, wasn’t ready to have his personal sunshine taken away.

But he does not like this answer. Yoosung furrows his brows, truly starting to look angry.

“You’re not going to hurt me, and I’m not going to get hurt. I  _ want _ this, Seven.” His words are firm at first, but now he can’t meet Seven’s eyes as he continues. “Were you just playing pranks every time you flirted with me?”

Fuck. Seven sighs, wincing and finally loosening his hold to comb his fingers through Yoosung’s hair again.

“No, that’s not it-”

“T-Then let me kiss you more,” His eyes are watering again and Seven’s heart sinks. “If it leads to m-more then I want it. I want to feel happy because of y-you.”

Those last words breaks Seven’s composure. He tugs Yoosung in for another hug, and kisses his forehead. Yoosung returns the hug, even if shortly after he’s wiggling to pull Seven’s face down to launch into another heavy make-out. Seven can feel the wetness on his cheeks, and hopes he can at least be a temporary comfort, even if it hurts.

Yoosung always talks about girlfriends.  _ Never _ boyfriends, or terms like ‘partner’. Seven’s not that oblivious- He knows damn well this is going to be a one time thing. He knows that Yoosung is going to wake up in the morning full of regret, and Seven is going to ache continuously as he watches Yoosung force himself to forget about this and move in with some nice girl he eventually meets. 

It’s going to hurt, but if Yoosung is going to use him to get some type of temporary orgasm induced serotonin, then Seven’s going to pretend like he isn’t going to wake up to his heart being shattered.

He focuses on the kisses- The clumsy ones, the few less amatuar ones, and the way Yoosung tries to sloppily piston his tongue in Seven’s mouth. It’s obvious that Yoosung barely has a clue on what he’s doing, but Seven takes it all and tries to store every little detail he can. 

Yoosung’s hands are the first to travel, while Seven is too busy tangling his in Yoosung’s hair. His hands drag down Seven’s sides, stopping at his hips and pulling them flush to his own. He’s hard, Seven can feel his dick through the thin fabric of the bottoms he lent him, and when Yoosung rolls his hips Seven swears he’s never felt anything better in his whole life.

Yoosung is eager, moans already spilling out as he keeps grinding against him, and Seven has a difficult time coaxing him to lay on his back, to stop filling his brain with all these wonderful noises he needs to remember.

Once Yoosung is on his back, Seven stops any kisses and shakily sits up, willing his arms to cooperate as he opens his nightstand drawer.

“Seven-” Yoosung barely gets his breathless whine out before Seven shows him a bottle of lube, putting a finger to his lips.

“I’m not going anywhere, cutie.” He promises, tugging his pajama bottoms down.

Yoosung eyes him as Seven grips himself through his boxers, allowing himself a couple of teasing squeezes before meeting Yoosung’s gaze. He looks… nervous. A little unsure as he pants, regaining all the breath he gave to Seven. His cheeks are flushed, hair messy and tangled towards the back, and there’s just a small peak of his hip showing from where their grinding hips and curious hands lifted up his shirt in the process.

With better confidence, ignoring any negative thoughts from before, Seven lays back on his side, pulling Yoosung to do the same.

“H- How are we-”

Seven shushes him, planting another kiss as he slowly pulls Yoosung’s bottoms down, sucking in the groan Yoosung makes as Seven’s hand dips into his boxers and strokes his cock. There’s already a decent amount of pre-cum oozing from the slit, and Seven uses it as a brief lube as he teases the head of his cock.

“We’re not doing anything rough,” He explains, loving the way Yoosung keeps trying to weakly kiss him between moans. “Just- easy.”

Yoosung grips Seven’s sides, digging his nails into the skin as he shakes with pleasure. Was he going to be a quickshot? Honestly, with how long it’s been, Seven wasn’t sure if he was safe from cumming first either.

Quickly, wanting to hear just how loud Yoosung could get, Seven yanks down his boxers and pops open the cap to the lube. His hand abandons Yoosung’s cock, a small whimper ringing in his ears as he pours some lube onto his palm. He starts to coat his cock with lube, unabashedly stroking himself in front of Yoosung. There’s a small flicker of uneasiness, but the heat of his arousal coursing through him causes him to ignore it in favor of Yoosung’s eyes unable to tear away from watching. Yoosung bites his lip, then starts shyly pulling his boxers down all the way, and touching himself. He probably thinks that's the most they're going to do, so Seven moves his free hand to tangle in Yoosung’s hair again, and to pull him in for another series of kisses.

Undoubtedly, he was being greedy now. First times are important to most people, and surely with how much of a romantic Yoosung was, he wanted his to be special. But he chose Seven, who was only versed in quick meaningless fucks. He couldn’t be romantic if his life depended on it, not if he actually wanted to mean it.

Seven squeezes his eyes shut as he kisses Yoosung, nearly begging the negative thoughts to just  _ shut up _ for once and let him enjoy the bits of this he could. Yoosung’s groaning between kisses again, and before he loses the chance Seven shoos Yoosung’s hand away and starts stroking him himself again.

The reaction is instant. Yoosung gasps as the lube helps Seven’s hand glide against his skin easier, shakes as Seven comfortably twists his grip occasionally as he pumps him. He’s so breathless, choking back on moans as he presses his face against Seven’s shoulder.

There’s no way Yoosung can last much longer, not with the desperate mewls spilling out of him as he thrust his hips upwards to meet Seven’s hand. Seven stops jerking him off, only to line their cocks against each other to stroke them both with one hand. It’s difficult, especially with how Yoosung’s hips start to jerk, but he just needs a little longer, just a few more of those beautiful noises from his star-

“Sssseven-Oh god-! Oh my god-!”

Yoosung’s nails dig into his shoulders as his body spasms, a moan that’s almost a sob leaking out as Seven feels his cum mingling with the lube on his hand. Yoosung came first, and now Seven feels like as asshole continuing to jerk them off. He hasn’t came yet, but Yoosung is bound to be oversensitive. He’s not jerking his hips, and his whines are sounding more and more like pitiful pained whimpers, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t talk again until after Seven’s cum splashes onto his belly and shirt, until after Seven rolls to his back to catch his breath, and even then it’s just to ask for a new shirt in a small voice before turning to lay on his side, not sparing Seven a second glance.

* * *

 

The next day Seven wakes up to exactly what he expected: No Yoosung. He’s not in the shower, his clothes are gone, and there’s not any breakfast at least stored in his fridge. He scoffs as he checks his phone. Yoosung has his normal icon again with some inspirational quote, proving even more that Seven was just used.

God.  _ Used _ . That word sounds horrible. It doesn’t fit Yoosung, and even if it’s exactly right for this context, Seven shakes his head as if to erase the word from his thoughts.

It doesn’t work, and it keeps lingering in his mind. It lingers as he does some mindless hacking work for the agency, lingers as he tosses away blueprints for machines he thought about gifting to Yoosung, then it lingers as he redraws the same blueprints he just tossed out with a heavy heart. 

He was used. Yoosung is probably trying to rationalize it, or just trying to completely forget what happened. He had a few small hopes that maybe their friendship would at least carry on, but now Yoosung just logs out as soon as Seven logs back in. There’s barely any excuse, and Seven usually logs out soon after.

It’s a solid week before he hears from Yoosung, concentration completely on the wrinkled paper before him as he darkens the lines. It takes him a good twenty minutes before he sees Yoosung’s simple ‘Open the door’ text, and he’s spriting to the door with a vigor he hadn’t regained since that night.

Yoosung is there at his doorstep, only meeting his widened gaze for a brief second before glancing away. Seven’s heart is pounding too loud, ringing in his ears, and all he can manage is just stepping aside so Yoosung can walk in.

They don’t talk. Not for a while. There’s a lot of anxious looks passed between them, on Seven’s obnoxiously red couch, and Seven can’t help but think that this is truly it. Yoosung’s came to finalize the end of their friendship in person, and he might shut down from it all.

Nervously, Yoosung's hand darts over Seven's, gripping it tight as he searches for the words that refuse to form. His gaze drops, staring at his plain shoes or over at Seven's boots. There isn't much Seven can say at the moment without feeling like he's going to puke, so he lets Yoosung hold his hand as he thinks.

“I don't want to stop being friends,” Yoosung blurts out. With how direct it was makes him wince, but he continues. “I don't… I don't want to stop seeing you.”

What… what is he supposed to say to that? Seven swallows thickly, unable to keep looking at Yoosung as he rubs the back of his neck. He can’t trust the uneasy feelings of relief yet. This wasn’t an automatic promise of their friendship not being strained, if not worse.

“Well, uh… what do you want?”

“T-Time. More time to think about things.”

“Yeah?” God, that didn't sound good. There's his stomach clenching again, trying to force Seven out of the room in fear of what Yoosung about to say.

“I liked… everything we did. The kisses and stuff… But it was really fast.”

He just nods, the small action feeling as though is saps too much energy away from him. It was all too fast. His memory made the events seem like a blur, and the anxieties he felt thunderous.

“It felt good…” Yoosung shifts, still holding onto Seven's hand. “But I want it to be more special.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he prepares himself. Prepares for Yoosung admitting to it being a one time thing, that he isn't  _ really _ into guys and Seven helped prove it to him, that the cuddles and soft touches aren’t coming back, because Yoosung wants to save all of that for his future girlfriend and not someone as gross as himself.

He prepares for every scenario, but Yoosung still surprises him, still makes his heart freeze as Seven hears his lips part and a small breath being taken.

“Next time I don't want it to be because I'm sad, o-or because you're sad. I want it to be because we lo...love each other.”

Seven's finally looks at Yoosung, eyes blown wide with surprise. Yoosung stares back firmly with pink cheeks, scooting closer.

“I want to take things slower than that… but I still want to be held sometimes… Can we do that?”

Surely his brain is just short-circuiting. Surely, Yoosung ‘I want a girlfriend’ Kim isn't confessing to him. But… Yoosung's eyes nervously glance away, and before he can help himself Seven is cupping his cheek, making him face him again as he presses their lips together.

“Yeah- Yes, Yoosung. I want that,” He mutters, kissing again and again as Yoosung struggles to return the small pecks. “I want all of that with you.”

He feels Yoosung smile, breaking the kisses to wrap his arms around Seven and hug him tightly.

“Good. Me too.”

For a moment, Seven's future doesn't seem so bleak anymore, and he really hopes that this feeling doesn't fade away anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It's been a while! I've been very busy with a multitude of things, and I took a small break, so this is possibly rusty. **Quick note: If you did not enjoy this fic, please move along and just click out of it without any negative words, thank you.**  
>  Ps, the song Seven sings is not at all something I made up, haha. I got it from this video [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHeSkF8g_RY)! I love this remix and short so much, ahaha.


End file.
